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Editing (Red Copper China Break)
Client’s request: I need this to be creepy and I'm not sure it's quite hacking it. Could you help? Client’s original draft: Newt’s exhaustion and the renewed connection to the internet do nothing to help him fall asleep. He lies awake—and alone—for hours before sleep finally creeps up on him. He blinks in the orange dawn light and stretches. From the door he glances down the hallway and sees the open guest room door. Hermann must have started his day. Not ready to face the other man quite yet, Newt slips out the house’s back door and follows the path toward the cove he discovered the day before. The humid air chokes him and smells of iron and, strangely, bubblegum. "Weird," he mumbles. He jerks his gaze to the scrub on his right as something catches his eye: A brief flash of copper through the greenery. "Hermann?" Newt forces his way through the brush, snapping twigs and tearing leaves loose, as he fights toward the gleam of what must be Hermann’s feathers. "Hermann? That you? How did you get in here, dude?" His voice deserts him. The pile of feathers and skinny limbs lies still on the dry, golden grass of the clearing. Newt teleports across the distance between them. Hermann is a mess of bone china white skin, ragged feathers, and blood. Too much blood. His flesh is cool as Newt touches him. The great red rent in Hermann's chest, surely deep enough to breach his heart or a vital artery, drains the blood from Newt's body. Newt forgets how to breathe. "Hermann? Can you hear me? Hermann?" His voice cracks. What did this? Who did this? Newt’s hands are full of blood. After I was through with it: Dawn blasts through the window and you wake. You sit up and fight the last dregs of sleep, finally opening your eyes to a bloody room. It's just the light. No Hermann. You stumble to the washroom. No Hermann. Upstairs lab. No Hermann. Stairs. No Hermann. Elevator. No Hermann. Downstairs lab. No Hermann. Kitchen. No Hermann. Okay. Hermann wants alone time. You can deal with that. You trot from the house and follow the path down to the Beach. Except you take a wrong turn somewhere and end up in this little cove. Smells like bubblegum for some reason. And iron. Weird. Hey, Hermann's feather. You smile and pluck it from the grass. "Hey, Hermann, you're moulting again!" The copper gleams in the sun and slices your hand. It floats to the ground. Another feather. You don't pick it up. You elbow your way through waist-high scrub. And another. "Hermann?" Damn this place is overgrown. And another. "You here?" And another. "How'd you even get in here, dude?" You slip in the mud and fall to grass. More feathers. A whole pile of them. Almost a wing-full. You reach out. "Hermann?" Feathers fall away as one unit. Broken china. Weird. Your hand comes away red. It's just the light. "Hermann?" You push feathers aside. More china. Glassy eyes stare up at the sky. It's just the light. "Hermann?" A great rent through the chest. It's just the light. "Hermann?" More china. Your hands are red. It's just the light. "Hermann?" Client’s review: *looks at email* *looks at original draft* *looks at email* *shivers* *looks at email* *whimpers* Well, that was amazing. You're posting it. Of course, it no longer fits with where I was trying to jam it, but I have a way to salvage the other thing. If you want to have mercy on me, you can take the "again" out of the line about moulting and it'll work perfectly with what I have for the other thing. TL;DR : You just wrote the first section of AN 27. Category:Editing